How One Teacher’s Resilience Continues to Shape a Community
Suzanne Lee’s legacy from Boston’s busing crisis to activism in Chinatown and founding MAAEA, spotlighting Asian American educators’ roles in community resilience, advocacy, and cross solidarity efforts between Black and Asian individuals in the academic space.

This article is part of Mochi’s fall 2024 issue on Resilience, redefined as “finding agency in adversity and fighting for radical change.” We highlight the strength of individuals and communities and their courage in dismantling systems of injustice. Our hope is that you will feel the strength pulsing through these stories and that you also are inspired to pair resilience with actions that lead to real, necessary, and revolutionary change.
In 1976, Stanley Forman captured a black-and-white photo titled “The Soiling of Old Glory.” The image shows a white teenager named Joseph Rakes attacking Ted Landsmark, a lawyer and civil rights activist, with an American flagpole.
This photo became one of the most iconic and emblematic images of the Boston busing crisis.

The 1974 Boston busing crisis was a period of intense racial conflict triggered by court-mandated efforts to desegregate public schools. The crisis involved widespread protests, outbreaks of violence, and significant resistance to integrating students of color with white students through mandatory busing. This turbulent time revealed deep-seated racial tensions and systemic segregation within Boston’s public schools.
The desegregation policy inadvertently positioned Asian American students as a buffer between white and Black communities. As we mark the 50th anniversary of these desegregation efforts, it is crucial to acknowledge the contributions and solidarity of heroic educators during this challenging period.
The “Independent Character” in Suzanne Lee
As a product of Boston Public Schools, it was natural for Suzanne Lee to become an educator herself. Her first year of teaching in 1975 coincided with Boston’s busing crisis.
Lee, co-founder of Boston’s Chinese Progressive Association and former Boston City Council candidate, emerged as a key figure in Boston’s Chinatown during the early 1970s. Lee is also a founding member of the Massachusetts Asian American Educators Association (MAAEA), a close-knit community of Asian American educators. I had the honor of interviewing her about her experiences as an educator and activist.
Lee’s journey began when she immigrated to the United States at the age of 11, just as she was about to start sixth grade in Hong Kong. Her family had moved to the U.S. five years earlier, but she stayed behind with her grandmother due to a lack of legal documents. Upon arriving in Boston’s Grove Hall, a once predominantly Jewish neighborhood in the midst of transitioning into a primarily Black neighborhood, her father enrolled her in school. However, the principal placed her in the 4th grade instead of the 6th due to her limited English proficiency.
Lee recalls being the only non-English-speaking student and remembers that for three years, she struggled to learn the language, “I feel like I always had to depend on myself, which forged a very independent character in me — that if you want to get something done, you have to do it yourself.”
Navigating the Busing Crisis
Mothers in the Chinatown neighborhood where Lee taught received notices in English only. Lee served as a translator, though like everyone else, she had little knowledge of what the future would hold. When the Boston School Committee was presented with requests to ensure the safety of Chinese students, the committee both mocked and disregarded the concerns.
Lee notes that schools encouraged Asian students to arrive at their new schools on the first day to act as a “buffer” between Black and white students. That buffer would supposedly ease the racial tension and violence that the department foresaw but, in the process, perpetuate what academics have coined “racial triangulation.”
Within the context of the United States, Asian Americans have strategically been valorized relative to Black Americans, being perceived as “model minorities” and thus more successful or hardworking. If Asian students boarded the buses, it would provide the school department with leverage to compel Black students to follow suit.
Lee volunteered to sit with the students on the bus and recalled only two African American children getting on at their stop. Despite her own fears, she maintained a brave face for the students who were put in a vulnerable position. As an educator, she believed it was crucial not only to protect Chinese students but also to advocate for Black and Brown students.
During our interview, she voiced her profound concern over the inadequate funding for these students: “Right now, the fight around public education has to do with who is using public education and the majority, no matter where, are the poor, and more and more Black and Brown people of color.” She reasoned that given the significant presence of Black and Brown students in public schools, the scarcity of resources allocated to them was no coincidence.
Activism in Motion
Lee frequently clashed with certain white teachers who disapproved of Chinese students speaking their native language. These teachers imposed a penalty of a quarter for each instance of speaking Chinese, citing their inability to understand and deeming it inappropriate. In response, Lee pointedly remarked, “We never understand all the time,” highlighting the challenges Chinese students faced in comprehending English due to insufficient resources and support.
In 1977, Lee eventually went on to co-found the Chinese Progressive Association (CPA), dedicated to advancing the rights and well-being of Chinese Americans and other Asian American communities. During her time as a chair member, Lee worked to alleviate tensions between Black residents and incoming Chinese residents in the South End neighborhood. The organization established a tenants’ council to promote cross-racial cooperation among the residential community.
While Lee has made significant strides in promoting allyship, she also observes that the country appears to be regressing in some areas.
“It’s pretty scary where we’re going. It sounds like they’re chipping away. ‘Oh, it’s just language. Oh, it’s just a woman’s right. It’s just this.’ When you add it together, it paints an obvious picture,” she says.
Segregation in education did not end 50 years ago. It is still ongoing, and there is much work to be done. According to the U.S. Accountability Office, the U.S. student population is becoming more diverse, but schools are not reflecting that diversity.
A Vision of Progress
Asian American educators play a very important role in advocacy work within the education system. As a founder of MAAEA, which is a “network of progressive educators, administrators, and community workers seeking to meet the educational needs of the Asian American community,” Lee serves as a guiding light for many young Asian American educators, including Katie Li, an ethnic studies coach I interviewed for an article on language assimilation. Katie, who once held a position similar to mine, had interviewed Suzanne Li during her college years and later joined MAAEA herself. MAAEA has actively pursued a range of initiatives, from providing testimonies and hosting panels to using grants to advance research on the experiences of Asian American students.
The brave efforts of Suzanne Lee and other educators exemplify the essential role of solidarity and advocacy in addressing racial inequities. Lee’s commitment to safeguarding Chinese students while also championing the needs of Black and Brown students highlights the ongoing battle for educational equity.
Cover Credit: David Rees/ Documerica / Unsplash



